


Three blocks away

by JanaRumpandRCClara



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Hurt Derek, M/M, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 19:48:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1830133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanaRumpandRCClara/pseuds/JanaRumpandRCClara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was never supposed to happen to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three blocks away

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to point out this is all Jana's fault.  
> I'm a poor author who can't say no to her beta.  
> And making Derek suffer makes me both miserable and extremely pleased with myself.

[From Stiles:]  
[Cooking dinner for us. I’m finally defeating the terrible sauce can! \o/]

Derek had to smile to the text. Stiles was a compulsive texter, there was not an hour that went by that he didn’t receive an update on what his boyfriend was doing. He sighed, pulling his jacket closer – it was a fucking cold night – and checking if he had really closed the studio door before texting him back.

[Goin home. u better not eat all the pasta before I get there.] 

He tucked his cellphone in his pocket and walked down the stairs. It was already late, he had gotten caught up in the editing of some photos for a magazine. He left the building then, saying goodbye to the security guard and leaving the place. There were three blocks until the subway and the streets were deserted, only some cars parked, but that was nothing new. 

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking down, with a dumb smile tugging his lips. He had just crossed the first street when his phone buzzed again. Gosh, Stiles just wouldn’t stop. When he picked it up, ready to answer it or just roll his eyes, he felt a pair of hands grabbing him and pushing him face first on a wall. Derek grunted and tried to get rid of the grip, managed to set his shoulders free for a couple of seconds - enough so he would turn to face his assailant. 

Before he could see who it was, or even understand what was happening, the hand grabbed his head and jerked it back hard enough so it hit the wall and an arm was pressed against his throat strong enough so he couldn’t move. 

He felt the man’s breath on his ear. “Don’t even try doing anything.” The voice was rough, and somewhere in the back of his mind Derek knew he had heard it somewhere before. He couldn’t recall where though. 

The young man growled and tried to push whoever it was away, and it was sort of shocking to realize that he couldn’t, that whoever was pushing him against the wall was stronger than him.

“What the fuck do you want? Money, my cell? Just fucking take it and let me go.” He spat out, trying just to get done with this so he could go home. 

The man chuckled, sounding amused. The hand on his head moved, creeping low and under his t-shirt now, cold fingers tracing the pattern of his muscles. 

“I’ll take it.” 

Then he bit Derek’s neck hard enough for the young man to snarl in pain. No. This was not happening. He tried to focus his mind in finding a way of escaping, continued trying to push the man away and tried to kick him on the knee. It only made the assailant angry, so he moved back a little, not enough for Derek to get a glimpse of his face. 

“Behave. Or I may not be so kind to you.” 

Derek tried to bite his ear off – it was the only thing in his line of sight that he could use -, but the man dodged it. He grabbed his forehead and slammed his head really hard on the wall once more. His mind got unfocused, and he was roughly turned around so his face would be pressed against the dirty cold concrete. The man whispered again in his ear.

“I was gonna take my time, but since you’re so impatient…”

He twisted Derek’s right arm on his back, then his left, holding him in place with one of his hands. The young man continued trying to set himself free even knowing it was useless, but he couldn’t stop it. What use was being built and strong if he couldn’t even protect himself? If he was going to be raped and there was nothing he could do. The man’s other hand played with his belt before unbuckling it. He tucked two fingers in the waistband before pulling them down, slow and torturing. Derek closed his eyes, trying to wake up. This had to be a nightmare. He felt the cold biting down his exposed skin. 

His cellphone buzzed again and Derek felt his chest hurt even more as the man behind him snatched it from his jacket’s pocket. The young man only hated this more, this fucker had no right to see the messages. 

“Your little fag is worried about you. He’s saying that the pasta will grow cold if you don’t get home soon.” 

It was stupid, but that was what set Derek to tears. Not the sobbing kind, but silent tears that spilled when he closed his eyes and tried to pretend that none of this was real. The phone was tucked back into his pocket, and Derek tried not to throw up when the man licked his tears from one cheek. 

“I bet he never fucked you, the fairy. I’ll be your first.”

The way he spoke made it sound like he was so freaking proud of himself. The sound of a condom wrap being ripped open made Derek tense up all over even more. He couldn’t run, he couldn’t avoid it. He clutched both of his numb hands in fists as much as he could, clenched his jaw and let the tears run down his face. There was no preparation whatsoever, just the invasion and the pain. The young man felt a sob being forced out of him, unable to avoid crying more and more. His rapist started sucking on and biting his neck, whispering that he was marking him so that the little fag would know what happened. 

Derek didn’t want to think of Stiles. How would be able to face his boyfriend after this was over? The thrusts were harsh and fast, there was only pain, and he couldn’t focus on anything. He dig his nails in his palms so hard that it would have soon been bloody if his nails were a bit longer. He growled in pain, god, he begged, he begged for the other man to stop, for him to leave, anything. He needed this to be over.

“I like it when you cry and beg. It suits you.” The stranger said between sharp breaths, breathless and moaning. 

Derek pressed his forehead to the concrete and bit his lip fiercely. If the man wanted him to make noises, he wouldn’t make any noises. His teeth broke the skin in no time, and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. He focused his mind on the pain instead of the sounds, because hearing the other man say how tight his ass was and how he was close didn’t make this any more bearable. Pain would pass, pain had to go away. It couldn’t last forever. 

The thrusts became more erratic and with no pace set. The hand on the back of his head came back, grabbing it so hard that made difficult to think of anything else. When the man shouted, Derek knew he was coming. His head was banged against the wall again, with enough force for him to pass out for a couple of minutes – or that’s how long he assumed he was out. He came back to himself on the dirty ground, alone and hurting. He was pretty sure there was something torn, that he was bleeding from more than just his lips. 

The first thing he did was to pull his pants up. He then closed his eyes, trying to shut out all the memories and all the pain. He wanted to cry and curl up and hide, just pretend he didn’t exist right now. He had to though, he had to get back home… Getting up was hard, his legs hurt and his whole body felt like it was going to break down and fail him. Derek used the strength he had left to support himself against walls as he walked down the street. There was no one there to look at him, no one to judge him – a curse and a bless at once. He picked his cellphone and looked at the time. Forty minutes ago he had left his office. It was not fair that everything changed this fast. 

When he finally got into the subway station it felt like ages had passed. He took the steps down and thanked he had the card, so he wouldn’t have to face anyone, specially the same woman who flirted with him everyday. He stood against the tiles for some moments, resting his shoulder against a pillar in the platform. The other passengers looked at him like he was dangerous, like he may just attack them with no clear reason. The train arrived and he got into it, considered sitting down but doubted his body could deal with it. He placed himself next to the doors, and looked at the damage done to his face on the glass. 

His lower lip was cut, his cheek full of scratches, bruises on his forehead and bite marks on his neck. Derek was a complete mess. He gulped and closed his eyes, he needed to get back into the safety of his house, he needed Stiles. That was all he wanted right now. To hide his face on his boyfriend’s neck and drift to sleep next to him. The pain would pass, and he would be able to forget this ever happened. 

He almost fell asleep, but every time he almost dozed off something told him he couldn’t. That he may lose his station, and have to face more time out in the open. He looked at every man on the wagon - for what he knew, any of them could be his assailant. Any of them could be the guy that- No. He didn’t want to think about this, he was gonna go paranoid if he started thinking about it like this. 

Finally, his stop arrived. He stumbled out and dragged himself up the stairs. They lived only a block away, he was almost home, he was almost safe. By the time Derek was out in the fresh air once again he felt just so sick of everything, disgusted of what had happened to him, of his body and the marks and the bruises. He bend over a trashcan and heaved, even if he didn’t know there was anything to throw up at all. 

He stumbled to their building, searching his pockets for the keys but not finding them. Derek rested his forehead against the door then, crying and shaking. He only stood there, frozen, until one of his neighbors – a young woman that had invited him and Stiles for dinner when they moved - showed up. She opened the door for him, didn’t say a word about what she saw, even if he could see on her eyes the worry and the concern. They left in the same floor, and she watched as he pressed the doorbell too many times, just wanting to escape the knowing looks. 

Stiles opened the door. “Lost your keys, big-” he stopped in the middle of the sentence when he looked at Derek’s face. “Oh my god, Der, what happened?” 

He stumbled inside and rested his back against the wall. As Derek looked up to the other man he felt just so dirty, so fucked up… He didn’t want Stiles to know, but he knew it was too late. Derek hid his face on his hands, and for one second, when Stiles touched his shoulders trying to calm him down, he flinched away, scared. He hated the look on Stiles’ face then, full of pity and fear.

“Der…” He whispered, looking at him dead in the eye.

“Nothing happened, Stiles. I’m fine, I swear I’m fine.” He was so desperate. “I just need a bath, and to lay down and just forget this. Please?” He looked at Stiles, hopeful he would understand. 

The smaller man moved closer, very carefully. Like he wasn’t sure if he even could touch Derek anymore. He hated this, he hated that the one person he really wanted to see and touch right now was so worried about breaking him. 

“I didn’t want it to happen. I tried to stop him, I couldn’t… I’m sorry…” He was panicking, his breathing was more erratic, as he stared at Stiles. The younger man held him tight and Derek just felt all his walls shattering. He fell in his arms and hid his face on his neck while Stiles held him tight, running slender fingers through his hair. 

“It’s not your fault, Der.” 

He gulped, not sure if he could believe this right now.

“I just want this to be over.” 

“We have to get to the station.”

“I don’t want anyone to know… No one can know, Stiles.” He couldn’t bear the thought of people knowing, of people looking at him like he was weak and broken. Stiles touched his face, caressing, and whispered.

“It’s gonna be okay… I promise…” 

“You can’t promise me that.”

“I can. We are going to overcome this.”

He wanted so much to believe in what Stiles was saying. He couldn’t though, not right now, he wasn’t even sure if he would make it through the night in sanity.

**Author's Note:**

> You can check us at tumblr under the names  
> pandora-is-on-the-impala and spice-and-raging-kittens


End file.
